NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
“Who was that masked man?
“That’s that chubby guy that’s in here like three times a week buying beer and stuff to make crap Mexican food.”
“Oh, he seemed so confident and manly. I thought maybe it was someone cool.”
“Nope, just a fat guy who drinks too much beer, and eats a lot of Mexican food wearing a homemade surgical mask.”
*BOTH GROCERY CLERKS LAUGH UNCONTROLLABLY*
*CREDITS ROLL*
Little green nubbins.
It’s been two full days without me doing any sort of riding, hiking, or woodsy walking with my camera. Why you half-heartedly ask? Well, we have serval deer ravaged emerald arborvitaes that have gotten way too tall and way too ugly to remain on the vast (not really) grounds of the Cul-De-Sac-Shack. So with an ax, and an assortment of saws, lawn tools, and “new to me” bootleg gynecological exam room equipment of questionable value to the project, I headed outside to trim, clip, saw, gnaw, chop, hammer, drill, curse, and sweat for two days in a row.
I’m out of here.
Sadly, after two days, lots of sore muscles, an aching back, blistered hands, two dulled electric chainsaw chains, broken safety glasses (actually my Tifosi riding glasses, I sat on them), a misused speculum, and an unused vacuum extractor I called it quits, coming up short by three large arborvitaes. There was much cussing.
Thankfully I know a guy, and that guy owns a real chainsaw, knows how to use it, and will be stopping by later this week to help me extract the remaining nasty ass shrubbery (while staying within all state, local, and federal social distancing guidelines).
Not a rose, but still has me saying “ROSE BUD!”
When I wasn’t outside, I was sleeping, drinking Belgian witbier, eating crap Mexican food, and wondering why I felt the overwhelming desire to add talk of “bootleg gynecological exam room equipment of questionable value” to an upcoming blog post.
I also ventured for groceries, beer runs and trips to Home Depot wearing a mask for the first time. Wifey has made a series of homemade masks for us all, and I finally caved and started wearing it in public, something I honestly should have done long ago. Not because it helps with the spread of “the” COVID, or that it was the least I could do after Wifey worked hard sewing them on the Best Little Feminist Approved Sewing Machine in The World™, but because I now know that I was born to wear a mask! I’ve never felt so free!!!
Fuzzy worm tree.
I thought I would feel stupid wearing the mask in public, but I was SO wrong! It was actually liberating, and I felt like a much taller, arguably fatter, Bilbo Baggins moving unseen amongst mortals while wearing the Dark Lord Sauron crafted One Ring. Except I was actually wearing a pseudo surgical mask/spore catcher made of fabric that says “WOOF WOOF” all over it along with little cartoon dog toys. Take that, Lord Sauron!!
With most of my face covered, I moved about the public with less shame and self-loathing than I ever have in my life (I have a feeling I will talking about this with the O.G. Mind Bender during tomorrow’s video session). I might keep wearing one long after Pandemic-A-Go-Go 2020 is behind us. And if I can get permission to wear an “adapted for pleasure” version in the bedroom, I have a feeling my sex game will be some real next level type shit. Before you ask, no, I’m not on Tinder.
The coyote won.
Aside from a multitude of fictional characters and superheroes, who the fuck knew how liberating walking through life faceless and incognito could be? Now, if I can just come up with a catchy alias and nom de plume to go by, I’ll finally be ready to start living life!
Later.